To the Death
by MischiefManagedKnox
Summary: The wizarding world has it's first annual Hunger Games. 8 muggle borns ages 20-30 are chosen to fight to the death in the Arena. Hermione is chosen to compete in this blood bath. May the odds be ever in her favor.
1. Chapter 1

To the Death

**Hey you guys! I just had this idea while watching the Hunger Games trailer. Sort of taking a small break from Under just so I can start this one. I'm gonna continue updating Under as well as work on a sequel to White, but this has been bouncing around in my head for like a week. Hope you guys enjoy it! Please read and review. **

RON'S POV:

_Beep beep beep beep_. The annoying sound of an alarm clock filled the sleepy room. I groaned and sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes. 7:03? What the hell? I mean I always poke fun at Hermione for setting such specific times, but this- she wouldn't hear the end of this.

Speaking of Hermione, I turned to where she lay fast asleep. _Funny. _I thought to myself. _She sets the alarm for this time and she doesn't even wake up at the sound of it. _She sighed in her sleep and I thought about just going to work without her. No. She'd kill me if I let her sleep through work. When Hermione sleeps in, she sleeps through the entire day. I don't know if she has some kind of sickness that causes that, or if she's just that tired.

I put my hand on her warm shoulder and shook it slightly. "Hermiiione." I cooed. She shifted in her sleep and moaned. I shook her shoulder again. "C'mon sweetheart. Time to get up. You don't want to be late for work." She turned her small frame to face me, her eyes still closed.

She opened her mouth and muttered. "Don't feel good." I smiled and laughed through my nose.

"Poor thing." I put my hand on her forehead, attempting to amuse her. I drew my hand away quickly as if she had burned me. "Ouch! You're burning up, babe!"

She sat up and hit me playfully on the arm. "Fine, you got me." She lay back down on her back and rested her hands on her stomach. "But seriously, I want to call in sick."

"We can't, hon. You've got that presentation today." She grimaced at the thought. "What? You nervous?" She shook her head.

"No, I'm not nervous, I just.." She paused.

I furrowed my brow and rubbed her back. "You just what?"

"I don't know, I just don't have a good feeling about work today. I don't know what it is, I just don't like it." I smiled at her.

"Nothing bad's going to happen. The worst that could happen is that you completely fuck up your presentation." She hit me again.

"Language, Ron!" I laughed heartily and got out of bed. I walked over to the curtains and began to draw them back.

I turned to Hermione. "Close your eyes." She turned over onto her stomach and rested her face in the crook of her right elbow. I drew the curtain, letting in the light of a new day. Hermione moaned as she began to open her eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light. I walked by her and kissed her head gently. She smiled and began to sit up and stretch.

It was a very slow morning for us. Usually we're out the door by 7:45, but we left the flat around 8. I took her small hand in mine and closed my eyes, preparing to apparate. Before we could apparate, Hermione let go of my hand. I turned to look at her, confusion written on my face.

"Ron, seriously I really really don't want to go to work. I seriously have a bad feeling about it." She turned to head back inside. I lunged forward quickly and grabbed her hand. Before she could say anything, we apparated.

When we hit the ground, she immediately tried to apparate herself back home. "Hermione! Stop! What's bothering you so much?"

She looked at me with confusion. "I-" Before she could say anything more, two ministry guards grabbed her and forced her arms forward, and lifted her shirt slightly, exposing her back.

I ran forward only to be stopped by two more guards. "What the fuck are you doing! Let her go!"

The guard to my right began to speak as I continued to struggle against them. "All mudbloods must be marked for the selection." What? Marked?

"MARKED? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" I heard Hermione scream and I turned to see something that made me sick. Another man came behind her with some sort of branding iron. The iron at the end was in the shape of a giant M and it appeared to be yellow and steaming. It looked like it was supposed to burn the M into her skin.

"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP!" My protests were ignored as the man pressed the iron into the bare skin of her back. Hermione jolted forward and screamed. I fought against the guards as she screamed louder. How dare they brand her like some sort of farm animal? My heart broke as the man took her shoulder and pressed the iron further into her skin. The guards holding me back finally let me go. I ran forward as the guards holding Hermione in place pushed her to the ground.

"Hermione! Hermione are you okay?" I knelt down and took her hand, helping her to her feet. She was trying not to cry. I took the end of her shirt in my fingers and looked into her watering eyes. "Can I?" She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth. She hissed in pain as the material of her shirt rubbed slightly against her burnt skin.

Anger flooded through my entire body as I saw what they had done. An angry red, bleeding M was permanently burned into her skin. As if she didn't have enough marks like that. Her left arm still had that disgusting word forever etched into her porcelain skin. Now she had this? Struggling to keep the anger out of my voice, I spoke to her in a soothing tone.

"It's okay Hermione. You can barely notice it." I let her shirt back down, eliciting a hiss from her. "Sorry, sweetie." I kissed the top of her head and looked at her face. My heart broke as I gazed at her features. She was still trying to keep herself from crying. Her hands rested on her hips, her head was bent back as if looking at the sky, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Let's go home, okay?" She nodded, her face still contorted in pain. I took her hand, but before we could apparate, we were stopped by the same guards as before. "Look, just leave us alone." I said, anger dripping from my voice. I suddenly saw a jet of light hit Hermione and I and felt the effects of an imperius curse take place. I was furious. I couldn't turn around and apparate, I couldn't get to Hermione, I couldn't fight, I couldn't do anything.

We were forced into a giant room full of people separated into two groups. The one on the left contained Harry, several of my coworkers and my entire family. I looked to the group on the right. It contained Dean, Penelope Clearwater, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Mary Cattermole. My heart stopped as I realized the pattern in the two groups. The group on the right was full of muggle borns.

I looked in the direction Hermione was in to see the imperius curse lifted from her. She struggled against the men as they pushed her roughly to the muggle born group. I felt the curse being lifted from me. I fought the guards, trying so hard to get to her. I could see the fear in her eyes as she was pushed roughly to the front of the group. The guards pushed me next to a shaking Harry. My mum was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh Ron- it's just so horrible!" She wailed as she sobbed into my chest. I looked at Dad who wore a face of complete sorrow and worry. He spoke in a solemn voice.

"They said that all muggle borns would be marked. Did they mark Hermione? How did they mark her?" I shook my head, disgusted with the situation we were all in.

Before I could answer him, the doors behind us closed and Lucius Malfoy stood on a platform in front of the muggle borns. My heart filled with overwhelming fury and confusion as he began to speak into a small microphone.

"Welcome, welcome. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here." I scanned the other group, my eyes frantically searched the crowd for my beautiful wife. I finally found her, her chocolate eyes darting nervously. I looked her over making sure she wasn't hurt more than she had been.

Apparently Harry was looking at her too. "Look at her wrists." He whispered into my ear, struggling to keep the anger from his voice. I followed his gaze to Hermione's wrists. My blood boiled with anger. Her wrists were shackled together in handcuffs. I scanned the entire muggle born group. Everyone's wrists were in handcuffs.

"If you are a pure blood, you were not harmed upon your arrival. However if you are a mudblood, you were branded with a letter M. The men on your stomachs, the women on your backs. You're probably all wondering why this has happened. Why we had to mark the mudbloods." My eyes filled with tears. I was so afraid for Hermione.

"We had to separate the filthy and worthless from the pure." I was ready to kill him. How dare he speak of my wife like that? How dare he speak of anybody like that?

"This is the selection. From the mudblood group, we will have four women and four men be selected to fight to the death in the Arena. If you are chosen, you are what we call a tribute. If you are chosen, you have no choice but to participate. If you are chosen and somebody else volunteers to take your place, then they will take your place in the Arena." I looked at Hermione who was struggling to keep herself from crying again. She scanned the pureblood group and locked eyes with me.

I mouthed to her _You're fine_, and _It's okay. _She shook her head and took a wheezing breath that I could hear from across the giant room. She was so pale, I thought she was going to be sick. Lucius began to speak again.

"I have every mudblood's name written on a piece of paper in these two bowls. One for the men, one for the women." He pointed to two small glass bowls levitating next to him. I wanted to take that bowl and beat him to death with it. Nothing would've made me happier. Besides Hermione being at home, safe of course. Hermione and I never broke eye contact.

I could hear him shuffling his hand in the bowl. "I will now choose the men tributes." He picked four pieces of paper. Hermione and I still didn't break eye contact.

"Dean Thomas." The entire room erupted with screams of protest as Dean solemnly walked up to the front of the room. I didn't see his face or anything because I kept my gaze fixed on Hermione.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley." Again, the room erupted with anger. I still stared at Hermione, refusing to break eye contact.

Three more names were drawn. People I'd never even heard of. Hermione was sobbing, still keeping her puffy chocolate eyes on mine. All of these tributes were her friends, and to think that she might have to kill them all… I couldn't imagine what she was feeling.

"And now for the women." My heart thudded against my ribs. I could hear him shuffling the small pieces of paper in the bowl. My eyes were still locked on Hermione's.

This was it.


	2. Chapter 2

To the Death

**Thank you for the good reviews! Hermione's POV**

HERMIONE'S POV:

My heart was thudding against my ribs. I've never been more afraid for myself in my life. Usually I'm constantly worried or afraid for other people. I'm always afraid for other people, but never me. This was new for me. I was afraid for myself.

"And now for the women." I stared into Ron's crystal blue, tear filled eyes. Ron broke the contact and looked up. I suddenly felt sick, suddenly feeling light headed. I looked up at Lucius as he drew four names.

He opened the first one and looked directly at me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as he began to speak. "Penelope Clearwater." He kept his cold eyes on me as the crowd erupted with anger. Why was he staring at me?

He opened the second one, still keeping his eyes locked on me. He gave a sigh, almost in disappointment as he said a name I didn't recognize.

One, two, three more women were selected. My heart filled with overwhelming relief. I wasn't chosen! Ron ran at me, picking me up and spinning me around. Our joy was cut short by Lucius's cold voice.

"I believe I can pick one more mudblood. Someone I… look forward to seeing fight for her life. Someone who should have died a long time ago." My heart froze as he shifted his gaze on me. "Someone who deserves to die a slow…painful death." He turned to the other tributes. "Keep that in mind."

He looked at me once more. "I choose Hermione Weasley." The entire room exploded. The crowd reacted much worse than they did when the others were chosen. I could feel the blood drain from my face.

Ron stepped in front of me as if shielding me from danger. "THAT'S BULLSHIT! YOU CANT DO THAT!"

I felt hopeless. I had no choice. I began to walk ever so slowly toward the other tributes, my eyes staring at my feet. Ron scrambled forward screaming.

"NO! NO! I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER! I'LL TAKE HER PLACE! PLEASE!" Lucius laughed.

"Mr. Weasley, you are pureblooded and your blood is precious. Therefore I cannot allow you to take her place." I stood next to Penelope and looked around at everyone. They all had solemn faces as they looked at the nine people about to walk into their deaths. "If there are any mudbloods that would like to take her place, speak now."

My heart broke. Nobody stepped forward. Of course I would never in a million years allow anybody to make this kind of sacrifice for me. But I was still a bit disappointed.

Ron was forced back to his side by the guards. Molly was sobbing and wailing, clinging to Arthur as if for her life. Ginny was crying and clinging onto Harry as Molly was to Arthur. Harry had tears streaming down his face. Ron had his face buried in his hands, his body wracked with heart breaking sobs.

My blood boiled with anger as Lucius began to speak. "These are our tributes!" He took my hand and raised it above my head as if I had won something. I tried to pull my hand back down, but he resisted. I looked at Ron, his face red with anger.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Ron ran forward, only to be punched in the stomach roughly.

Ignoring him, Lucius continued to speak. "The families of these worthless creatures will be able to say their final goodbyes." My heart exploded with anger. How dare he say something like that about me? How dare he say something like that about ANY human being? The crowd began to become restless. I turned to Lucius, daring myself to speak.

"You disgust me." He turned to me, fire in his eyes. I continued to speak, my mind telling me to stop. My voice was filled with absolute humility and sadness. "You are absolutely sick. I wouldn't even consider you a human being."

I should've seen it coming, but I didn't. He raised his fist and punched me square in the nose. The entire crowd gasped. My knees became weak as he hit me again… in front of the entire ministry, mind you. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and picked me up roughly, choking me a bit. Somewhere in the distance I could hear Ron say something like, "No! Let her go!"

His breath smelled of poison as he spoke in a whisper. "You forget your place, mudblood. You will die first. I will make sure of it." He dropped me back on my feet. I struggled to regain my breath as he let me go.

"If you are family of these miserable creatures, I take pity on you. Not because you will lose a loved one, no. But because they are what they are." He looked directly at me as he spoke, hatred dripping from his voice. He fixed his gaze upon my sobbing family in the front row.

"If you are family and you would like to say your final goodbyes to them, meet them at Kings Cross Station in approximately one hour. They will be taken to Bulgaria to be trained overnight to fight. Then they will be taken to the Arena tomorrow afternoon." He gave a sick smile towards Ron, who was seething with anger.

"Here's the interesting part. The entire games will be broadcasted on every channel of every magical household." I felt like I was going to throw up. Nobody should be forced to see this. Ron shouldn't EVER be forced to see me fight for my life.

"When the games begin, you will be given the option to only see what happens to the tribute of your choice." I looked directly at Ron. We made eye contact immediately and I could tell from his expression that he was going to watch me. I shook my head at him.

Lucius turned, addressing all of us. He spoke in the most condescending tone I've ever heard in my life.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."


	3. Chapter 3

To the Death

**Hey you guys! Sorry it took me a while to post chapter 2. The website was jacking up and wouldn't let me upload it. But it's up! Here's chapter three. **

HERMIONE'S POV:

We were immediately forced to apparate to Kings Cross Station. When we touched ground, I felt the handcuffs being removed from my wrists. I heard the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy drift into my ears.

"2 minutes." I furrowed my brow in anger and turned to him, ready to give him a piece of my mind. "1:57.. 1:56." He began to count down. This wasn't fair! Nobody was here yet!

"Wait! My family's not even here yet! You told them they had an hour!" Lucius slapped me hard across the face and continued counting down.

"1:43.. 1:42.."

_Come on, everyone! Please hurry up!_ I screamed inside my head. Everyone else's families were here. Everyone else was getting the comfort that only a family could bring. I felt like a lost child. _Like a child lost in Ikea._ _Okay, I'm already losing my mind._ I thought to myself. Behind me, I could hear Lucius's taunting voice still counting down.

"1:00. 59, 58.."

It was when he got to 40 seconds that I began to lose hope. I stared toward the end of the station, hoping to God that they would show up.

"10, 9, 8.." Wow. They don't even say goodbye to me when I'm about to walk to my death. Of course, it wasn't their fault, they were told they had an hour. But you'd think they'd immediately come just in case. I mean, really. Who in their right mind would believe Lucius Malfoy?

"3, 2, 1." My heart broke. That was most likely the very last time I could see my family. The last time to say how much I love all of them. I was absolutely heartbroken as Lucius handcuffed me again and began to push me toward the train that was waiting for us. As I walked, I looked around at the other tributes. Dean was being hugged by someone who appeared to be a sister. A sister. I thought of Ginny. I thought of how pissed off she probably was right now. Knowing her temper and how sensitive she is to how people treat me for being a muggle born, she was probably having some kind of breakdown right now.

Penelope was being embraced by her mum and dad. I thought of my own mum and dad. Not the people who are biologically my mother and father. I try to forget about those people, if you could even call them that. I thought about Molly and Arthur. My real parents. I was filled with jealousy and envy as I watched Penelope getting the love and comfort that only your parents could provide. Like Ginny, the entire family was so sensitive to how people treat me for being a muggle born.

All of the other tributes were getting so much love and comfort…. My family didn't show up. I wasn't angry with them, they were tricked. I was just disappointed. I really needed the support and love, but I couldn't get it.

Lucius ordered all of us to board the train. The train that would transport us to our deaths. I felt like I was going to some sort of concentration camp or something like that. Everybody was crying and waving to their families as the train began to leave. My eyes filled with tears as I just stared out the window.

We were about a quarter of the way out of the station when I saw a flash of ginger hair. My heart gave a leap as I looked out the window. My entire family stood looking around for me frantically.

"RON!" I pounded on the glass of the window, desperate to get his attention. My heart stopped as he continued looking around frantically. "MUM! GINNY! HARRY!" I pounded on the glass harder, expecting to break it. None of them looked at me.

The train was almost out of the station. I stood up and ran to the back of the train, tripping on my way. When I reached the back window, I noticed that it could be opened. My heart pounding, I opened it quickly. I leaned my head out the window and screamed at the top of my lungs.

"RON! HARRY! MUM! GINNY!" Finally. They all turned and saw me. Tears streamed down my face as they began to run after the train, Harry leading.

"HERMIONE!" I reached my hand out toward them, knowing perfectly well that it would do nothing to help me. The train sped out of the station, everyone becoming smaller and smaller as the distance between us increased. I could see Ron push Harry out of the way. He stared at me for a few seconds before burying his face in his hands and falling to his knees, Harry following him to the ground immediately.

The distance between us grew and grew until I could no longer see my husband's shaking form.

**Sorry. Short one. Next chapter will definitely be longer. I'll actually start on it the minute I upload this one. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

To the Death

** Sorry the last one was so short! This one's going to be a lot longer though. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hermione's POV:**

HERMIONE'S POV:

I had fallen asleep about 10 minutes in. I don't know how I managed to sleep, though. The train was so bumpy and loud, it felt as if it was about to fall off the tracks. I slept through literally the entire time we were on the train. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but when I sleep in, I tend to sleep for about 20 hours. I've asked a doctor about it, but they didn't diagnose anything, they just gave me some thyroid medicine and sent me out the door.

There was something about the bumpiness of the train that brought a bit of comfort. I don't know what it was, but it put me to sleep immediately. It's funny how I could sleep, given the circumstances.

I was awoken by someone gently shaking my shoulders. I was immediately reminded of this morning when Ron had done the exact same thing. I opened my eyes slowly, expecting to see Ron hovering above me, that lopsided grin on his face.

My heart gave a drop of disappointment as reality hit me in the face- or chest to be exact. Dean hovered above me, a small smile on his face. Ignoring the pain in my heart, I smiled back. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, looking out the window.

I didn't see the beautiful Scottish countryside that I had fallen asleep to. I saw several tall, white buildings all surrounding a giant arena in the middle of the city. No, giant is an understatement. I can't even describe how big it was. It was like if you took the Empire State Building and the Eifle Tower and laid them down, one in front of the other.

I immediately assumed that this was the Arena. This was where I was going to die.

"I'm sorry." I heard Dean say from behind me. I turned to him, my brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry for whatever's going to happen. I'm sorry that I have to kill you."

He spoke as if we were talking about the weather. I'm sorry that I have to kill you? What? What made him think that he was going to win this? I stared at him with confusion and slight anger.

"Well, what makes you think you're going to kill me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, daring him to answer. He laughed.

He counted off on his fingers. "I'm stronger than you, I have a higher tolerance level for pain, and I don't think you'll actually fight me." Whoa. Where did this come from? This was Dean Thomas. Someone I had grown up with. Someone who had very sweetly woken me up not two minutes before.

I laughed and stood up, stepping closer to him. "Okay, no." I began to count off on my fingers. "One, I have more muscle than you, everyone here does." He laughed and looked around. I stepped closer to him, causing him to step back. "Two, have you ever been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange without passing out? I think that tells you how high my tolerance level for pain is." I continued to step, causing him to walk backwards. "Three, I'm intimidating you right now just by stepping in your direction, and you're the one not fighting."

Before he could say anything, we were pushed out of the train by the guards. The minute I stepped out of the train, I was greeted by a giant crowd of people screaming at me. The guard that had me was shoving me roughly through the crowd of people. Several of them were spitting at me, others were trying to hit me. All of them were screaming highly offensive things at me.

Things like: "YOU'RE GOING TO HELL, MUDBLOOD!" and "YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" Some of them even screamed at me by name. I walked through the crowd with my head held high, my eyes closed, ignoring all of their comments. When I did open my eyes, I saw something that absolutely killed me. There was a crowd of children about twelve years old. They were all holding signs with a moving picture of me. The picture was me being stabbed through the throat repeatedly and my body being thrown into fire.

I burst into tears immediately. I've never seen anything so horrible in my life. It absolutely killed me that CHILDREN were holding these signs, several of them yelling things that I didn't even know the meaning of when I was twelve. The children were grabbing at my ankles and screaming. One man threw a glass beer bottle at me, hitting me in the eye and shattering. Pain erupted in the side of my head. I could feel blood begin to seep out of the area I was hit at.

"YOU'RE TRASH!" He screamed as it hit me in the eye.

Tears streaming down my face, I focused on the building in front of me. I suddenly noticed a bewitched camera swing around in front of me, filming the crowd, filming the tributes, filming me. No! Ron couldn't see any of this! This would kill him! It went away from me immediately, as if it heard my thoughts.

We finally left the crowd of violent citizens and walked into the building. My eye was swelling shut as the doors closed, the screams of the horrible citizens silenced. I looked ahead to see a woman about 40 walking toward us, a small smile on her face.

"Hello, mudbloods." She said in a condescending voice that made me want to choke her. "My name is Elise. Welcome to training." She began to pace in front of us, much like an army general. She shook my hand, immediately drawing it back with a look of disgust. She pulled out her white handkerchief and wiped her hand off.

I scoffed. "Classy." She ignored me and continued talking.

"You will be here for the next twelve hours to be trained to fight to the death." She turned and looked at us head on. "You will have a trainer that will teach you how to kill, how to make your victim suffer, and most importantly how to survive. We have one trainer for each of you. They have already picked who they wish to work with."

She motioned for us to follow her. We followed her into the next room. I was immediately overwhelmed by everything in there.

The room was filled with targets shaped like people. There were four men throwing knives and five men shooting a bow and arrow. Me being me, I immediately thought _How sexist_. It's silly that I was immediately pissed off that there were no female trainers, but I was genuinely pissed.

Elise introduced us to each of the men. A very handsome blonde man walked over to us. "This is Branislav. He specializes in bow and arrow shooting." He nodded and smiled. "He has chosen to work with Penelope Clearwater." Penelope stepped forward and Branislav took her to his station.

We moved on. A man no older than 23 walked over to us and shook each of our hands without acting disgusted with us. "This is Kaleb. He also specializes in bow and arrow shooting. He has chosen to work with Dean Thomas." Dean stepped forward.

I was the last one to be introduced to a trainer. Elise led me to a very tall and muscular man with a buzz cut. He turned to face me and his eyes immediately lit up with happiness. He took my hand and kissed it. He seemed to recognize me… I felt like I knew him before. Elise began to speak to me.

"This is Viktor Krum."


	5. Chapter 5

To the Death

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
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I was caught off guard. I was NOT expecting this! I mean yes, I was in Bulgaria for training, but I did NOT expect that Viktor would be my trainer.

"Hi." That was my brilliant response. He smiled and laughed slightly, taking my hand again and kissing it.

"Hermoninny." I laughed slightly. Even after twelve years, he still couldn't pronounce my name. Still keeping hold of my hand, he led me over to his station. He sat down in front of me, grabbing a knife. "Vat are your strenths?"

I thought for a moment. I couldn't really do anything spectacular without a wand. Nothing that would defend me from a heartless killer. I could throw like nobody's business though. But throwing knives? That's a different story.

"I can throw pretty accurately." I said in the voice of a small child. He smiled and handed me the knife. "No, I've never thrown a knife. Just rocks and the occasional frying pan." He gave a laugh, but I was serious.

"Just give it a try." He said. He stood facing my back and took the hand that was holding the small dagger. "You haff to look at your target with one eye open." I did as he told me, focusing my right eye on the middle of the target. "Now cock your arm back like you would throw a rock." I cocked it back just far enough to gain strength from it. "Now just throw it hard at ze target."

The knife made a small dinging sound as it hit the target. I was very disturbed as the realization hit me that I would have to do this to a human being. People that I had grown up with. I had to be a murderer.

As training went on, Viktor got more and more violent with his techniques. As time went on, I began to feel more and more nervous and sick.

There was a moment about 4 hours in, where he was showing me how to gut somebody. I felt as if I were about to vomit as he demonstrated this technique with a test dummy that was all too real for my liking. He took his dagger and forced it into the dummy's lower stomach. I groaned as he dragged the dagger up toward the dummy's chest, the dagger still embedded in the dummy's rubbery skin.

I felt the colour drain from my face as fake blood began to seep from the giant wound. I had to look away for a moment to regain my composure. I began to shake a bit and sweat, feeling as if I were about to vomit.

I looked back down at the dummy to see it start to shake and convulse the way a human being would if this were to happen to them. I guess it was bewitched to act like that. It was like seeing a car crash happen. It's just so horrible that you can't look away. Tears filled my eyes as I thought of the possibility of this happening to me, or the fact that I would have to hurt somebody this way.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Viktor began to speak. "You see vat I haff don? Zis is vat you haff to do to surfife." He managed to grunt out as he forced the dagger up higher to the dummy's throat. I had to close my eyes and take deep breaths to keep myself from vomiting. _I'm dead._ I thought angrily to myself. _I can't even handle stabbing a dummy. How am I supposed to fight and hurt other people if I can't even handle killing a dummy?_ I shook my head in utter disappointment with myself. _I'm so weak. I'll be the first one to die._

Viktor continued to stab the shaking dummy. My heart exploded with sympathy as the dummy began to still. It began to raise its arm toward me, as if begging me for assistance. It's fake, rubber fingers barely touched my soft cheek before falling to the ground with a loud thud. I was horrified, I was absolutely sickened. I felt as if the remaining innocence left in me had shattered with that one thud. The completely cliché and telltale sign of somebody dying.

Viktor looked at me. I had expected him to understand. To know how hard this was for me. To understand that I had never hurt anybody in my life, and how difficult it was going to be for me to do so. He just stared at me, his brow furrowed in disappointment. What he did next completely shocked me.

He slapped me _hard_ across the face. "You are so veak. You can't even handle killing ze dummy." I looked at him, my eyes bulging from their sockets, fresh tears escaping the corners of my eyes. "How do you expect to vin? Do you sink you can just hide ze entire time? No. You haff to murder. You haff to cause pain. I saw potential in you, but you are just like ze rest of zem. You are a weak, spineless mudblood and you vill die."

He stood up and began to walk away, but not before kicking me in the back. It was at that moment that I stood up and screamed, all my anger and frustration from the past 18 hours exploding from me like lava with that one scream.

"NO!" I screamed. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me, seething with fury. "I AM SO _**SICK**_ OF EVERYBODY SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT! I HAVE BEEN CALLED THAT HORRIBLE NAME FOR MY _**ENTIRE LIFE**_, AND I AM SICK OF IT!" His expression softened ever so slightly. He began to walk over to me, but I backed away from him.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME! NONE OF YOU TOUCH ME!" The entire room stared at me, but I didn't care. I was so angry, so fed up with being treated this way. "I HAVE BEEN HIT AND KICKED AND HAD THINGS THROWN AT ME! HELL, I WAS BRANDED LIKE SOME KIND OF ANIMAL!"I broke down. I fell to my knees and began to sob deeply. Once I began to calm down a bit, I began to speak again. "I just hate this so much. I just hate being labeled, and then being judged by that label." I paused and looked up.

Viktor strode toward me, fury in his eyes. He picked me up roughly by the collar of my shirt. The guards in the room ran forward to my aid, all of them separating us. The guards held us facing eachother.

"Get used to it, mudblood. Your life is about to get so much vorse." With that, he spat at me and was escorted out. I was shocked. What did I do to deserve this treatment? All I did was get upset and disturbed by the techniques he was trying to teach me. What triggered his explosive reaction toward me?

These questions raced through my mind like a NASCAR race as the guards began to escort me to a room. The room was small, with only a bed and a sink with a toilet in the corner. I was pushed roughly toward the bed. One guard came forward and pushed me gently until I was laying down.

My brow furrowed as another guard handed him something that he kept hidden behind his back. I began to panic as he brought the object forward. It was some kind of vaccine.

"Relax, sweetheart. I have to put all of you to sleep. You should feel a slight pinch. 1, 2, 3." As he said the number 3, I winced at a small pinch in the crook of my elbow. My vision became blurry and began to darken slightly.

"Goodnight." The guard whispered. He turned off the light and left the room.

I felt my heartbeat slow down and my body began to relax as I let the darkness of sleep envelope me once again.


	6. Chapter 6

To the Death

**Thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate it!**

"Time to wake up." I felt a gentle hand shake my groggy form, willing me to wake up. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up. The entire room was still blurry and all the colours in the room blended together. I looked to my left to see the same guard that put me to sleep last night.

He smiled warmly at me. "Good morning."

I took a breath and smiled. "Hi." I turned my head and looked around a bit more. My vision was starting to clear up. I turned my head to face him. I could see his face clearly now. He had dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes. He was probably about 22 and he was very handsome. He held his calloused hand out to shake mine. I took his hand as he began to speak.

"I'm Aiden Taylor. I'm not from here, but the ministry sent me here for these games. I was sent down here to retrieve you. They told me to tell you that you need to get yourself ready. The games start today. You're being put in the arena this morning." My heart stopped. No. I wasn't ready for this! I only finished training yesterday! I wasn't mentally prepared for this!

All these thoughts raced through my mind. I wanted to protest, I wanted to say something. But all I did was nod and sit up.

Aiden stood to his feet and nodded, backing out of the room. "They're giving you about 10 minutes."

"Okay." I said. I looked around the room as he shut the door to give me some privacy. Everything was the same as it was when I was brought into the room. Except for one thing.

There was a small photograph sitting on my bedside table. Tears filled my eyes as I picked it up with shaking hands. It was small, very small. It was about 5 inches by 5 inches. It was such a small picture but it brought such a giant wave of comfort that only it could provide.

The entire Weasley family stood in the sitting room of the burrow, all of them smiling. Molly and Arthur stood, their fingers intertwined, so much love in their eyes as they gazed vacantly at the camera. The rest of the family surrounded the small sofa that sat inconveniently in the middle of the room. Harry and Ron sat on the sofa, both of them wearing an encouraging smile, as if to tell me that I was going to be fine.

I was crying freely now. I turned the picture over, about to start getting dressed when I noticed something on the back of the picture. My heart gave a lurch as I saw what it was. All of them signed the back of the photograph under a small note written by Ron.

Tears sprung to my eyes as I began to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_ All of the other tributes got to bring something from home because all of their families got their in time to see them off. We're all so sorry that we didn't get to say goodbye. We all love you so much and we're all so proud of you. You're going to be okay, sweetheart. If you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation, or if those disgusting people make you question why you're even alive, then look at this picture. We are the reason you're here. Hermione, you are so loved by all of us. I love you so much, and we're all praying that you get back here safely._

_ I love you,_

_ Ron. _

Tears were flowing freely from my eyes as I put the picture down with shaking hands. I wrapped my arms around my body and rocked back and forth, sobbing loudly. I cried for myself, I cried for my family, I cried over the fact that I had to murder. To cause pain. I began to think of the what ifs… which upset me even more. I thought of my family's reaction as they watched me die a gruesome death… on public television.

Aiden knocked on the door, probably as a sign that I didn't have much time left to get ready. I quickly threw on a tight black shirt and gray pants. I quickly put my hair into a messy side braid. I didn't bother with makeup. I didn't think I needed to look _fantastic_ for this. I picked up the photograph, pressing it to my lips before putting it gently into my pants pocket.

As I walked into the long hallway, I noticed the other tributes leaving at the same time. Aiden took my arm and began to escort me out. My heart thudded with anxiety as I walked down the long and winding hallway. Further down the hallway, I could see several little circular platforms with long, clear tubes running out of them, big enough to fit a person inside.

My brow furrowed as Aiden and I walked up to a large tube. I noticed a small sensor type thing attached to the front of the tube, just outside the door of it.

Aiden hesitantly took my shoulders and turned me around so that my lower back was in front of the sensor. He lifted the back of my shirt and pressed my lower back against the sensor. That was why I was branded. I could feel heat radiating from the machine as it began to scan the M on my lower back.

I must have been shaking because Aiden rubbed my arms in a comforting manner. "You're doing just fine." He said in a gentle voice. I smiled at him with appreciation. He was really treating me very well. He wasn't like the rest of them.

"Thank you, Aiden." He looked up at me and smiled. "I really appreciate you treating me so well."

He smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Suddenly the glass door of the tube raised up. Aiden gently guided me into the tube and pressed a few buttons. My heart filled with panic as the door began to close. As the door was closed, I heard him say something.

"I'll pray for you." He held his wooden necklace that was shaped like a cross. "You're going to be okay."

Tears filled my eyes. "Thank you." I whispered. The door closed completely, and I could feel myself being raised up. The platform under me moving me toward the ceiling of the tube. My heart wept with terror as the ceiling opened up to a bright blue sky. I snorted at the irony. The sky was so perfect, so beautiful, so… happy. It was as if it didn't know that its beauty was being cast over such a gruesome and unhappy event. The event that would take many lives. Including mine.

I was suddenly submersed in the bright light that was just a mere image only seconds ago. My heart jumped into my throat as I looked around me. We were in a forest. The entire arena was filled with trees as far as I could see. There were 8 backpacks laying down, each laying in front of their owner. I looked down, expecting to see my own backpack. There was nothing there.

Suddenly I heard something that made me want to vomit. Lucius Malfoy's voice boomed through the entire arena.

"Hello, mudbloods. This is the Hunger Games. To eight of you, this will be your final resting place. To one of you, this is where you will gain _eternal glory_." I wanted to punch something. I shook my head in fury as he began to speak again.

"In front of you is a backpack. This backpack contains the weapons that you will need to survive. All of you except one have one in front of you. The person without one was chosen by random draw." I snorted with disgust. I was not _chosen by random draw_. No. Lucius was trying to do everything in his power to make sure I died.

"Hermione Weasley. Your backpack is placed in a clearing about one mile ahead. You have to retrieve it immediately if you wish to survive." My blood boiled with anger as he spoke again. "All of you with backpacks, you may take out one of your weapons. Hermione Weasley, you are defenseless until you retrieve your bag. Therefore I would suggest that you…. _Run fast_." I shook my head. I was going to die first! All of the other tributes had either a spear, a bow and arrow, or a dagger. I had nothing to defend myself with.

"I speak to all of you now." He paused for a moment. "May the odds.. be ever in your favor."

The second he said this, I readied myself for the fastest run I've ever done in my life. A loud, deep voice rang through the arena.

"10, 9, 8." I looked at Dean, who was wearing a look of no remorse.

"7, 6, 5, 4." Dean began to shuffle closer to me, ready to stick the knife in my side.

"3." _I can do this._

"2." _Don't think, just run._

"1."


	7. Chapter 7

To the Death

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

My heart stopped as Lucius said the dreaded number. "1."

Dean immediately sliced the knife at me, but I was ready for it. I jumped to the side and dodged it. Penelope was running off into the woods with about 6 others. I had **no **help.

Dean and another man by the name of Cody had me trapped between them. They circled me, their weapons constantly striking at me.

My heart jumped to my throat as Cody's knife barely grazed my back. Suddenly the sound of a cannon made us all stop in our tracks. It was a sign that somebody was dead. Dean and Cody were staring at the top of the Arena. They were distracted!

I took this opportunity to escape. I darted past them as fast as I could. "GET BACK HERE, BITCH!" Dean screamed from behind me. I ran straight into the forest, using the trees as shields from any danger. I think that's the fastest I've ever run in my life.

My heart stopped as I felt a dagger fly just past me, barely missing my head. I screamed and ran faster as I felt several daggers fly past me, some of them so close, I could feel the wind behind them.

Suddenly… they stopped. They weren't being thrown at me anymore. I didn't slow down though. This was definitely some kind of trap. My heart pounded and my breathing labored as I continued to run. I could see the clearing about 500 feet ahead, a small orange backpack waiting for me in the middle of it.

I could hear my furious heartbeat in my pounding head.

400 feet. I could hear Dean catching up to me, Cody right behind him, both of them yelling very vulgar and grotesque things at me.

300 feet. I picked up my speed as another dagger was hurled in my direction. "THAT'S RIGHT KEEP RUNNING, YOU STUPID BITCH! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT INTO A TRAP!" No. I refused to stop running.

200 feet. _Think of Ron. Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron. Oh, shit. He's probably having a heart attack right now._ I shook my head, tears spilling from the corners of my eyes as I continued to run. _Don't think about that! Think about Harry! Think about your family, and how they're waiting for you at home. _

100 feet. I could almost feel the leather of the orange backpack in my grasp. I was almost there. Just a few more feet, and I would be okay.

75 feet. Dean was getting so close that I could feel the pounding of his steps on the ground behind me. My muscles burned in protest as I sped up my run, desperate to get away from them.

50 feet. Cody circled in front of me, just behind my backpack, two long daggers in his hands, a demented smile etched upon his face. "YOU'RE GONNA DIE, BITCH!" He screamed from his position in front of me.

25 feet. _Think think think! How am I going to get out of this?_ My mind screamed at me, my heart exploded with pure terror, my entire body begged me to stop running. I needed to think of a plan. Cody got closer and closer to me as I ran right at him. I could feel Dean's warm, rasping breath on the back of my neck, making the hairs stand up on end.

20 feet. _Five_. My heart continued to pound in my ears.

15 feet. _Four. _I began to slow my pace to a jog.

10 feet. _Three. _I could practically hear Ron screaming at the television.

5 feet. _Two._ I reached my hand out toward the bag. Cody lunged at me with his dagger. I ducked from it and grazed the backpack with my fingers, feeling its leather material just out of my reach.

0 feet. _**One**_.

I can't even remember grabbing the knife from my bag. It was just suddenly in my hand. Cody jumped up toward me, tackling me to the ground. Adrenaline got a hold of me as we flew through the air.

I gripped the knife with a death grip.

We hit the floor with a giant thud.

I closed my eyes, expecting the attack that never came.

I looked up at Cody. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. I felt his weight lift from my body as he fell to the ground, shaking and convulsing in pain. I was shaking from shock and pure adrenaline. I felt like I was going to be sick.

His back was bleeding profusely as he looked at me with pleading eyes. He coughed, blood splattering across the grass he was laying on. I looked away from him for one second, trying to see who had saved me.

Dean stood about 10 feet away, blood soaking his t shirt. I opened and closed my mouth over and over again, trying to find the words I desperately wanted to say.

"Why?" I choked out, the lump in my throat growing with every breath. Tears filled my eyes. I don't know why I am the way that I am, but I couldn't handle Cody laying there in a pool of his own blood. I needed to try to help him, even though he attempted to end my life not a minute ago.

Dean gave me a look of absolute hatred. He pointed his knife toward the forest. With a shaking voice, he spoke. "You have 5 minutes."

I opened my mouth and furrowed my brow. I shook my head, a sob erupting from my throat. "No. I c-can't just l-leave him h-here."

I took Cody's hand in mine, as his skin began to grow colder and colder with each breath he struggled to gain. His dying eyes sparkled with tears of pain as he gripped my hand as if it were a lifeline. I had never seen a human being die before. Or at least, I've never witnessed anybody's death. I sobbed in absolute sorrow for Cody as his hand released its vice like grip on mine.

"GO!" Dean screamed from behind me. "GET OUT!" I dropped Cody's freezing hand and began to stand up on shaking legs. "You have 4 minutes." I shook my head again, still not wanting to leave the dead body.

Dean jumped toward me, making me flinch. With shaking legs, and an upset stomach, I took off toward the forest.

I continued to run as I heard the booming sound of a cannon behind me, signaling Cody's death. 2 people. 2 people had died, and I wasn't one of them. Lucius and Viktor were wrong. I wasn't dead.

I slowed to a walk, my backpack hitched onto my right shoulder. I took a dagger out, protecting myself from any oncoming danger. I looked around cautiously, just waiting for somebody to jump out at me.

That's when I felt a hand wrap around my neck.


	8. Chapter 8

To the Death

**Thanks so much for all the reviews! I appreciate it!**

That's when I felt a hand wrap around my neck. My hands flew up to my throat instinctively as the unknown person's hands slowly squeezed the life out of me. They were the hands of a man, but… they had a small softness about them. I don't know why I was thinking about the hands that were crushing my windpipe, but I swore those hands were familiar.

My eyes bulged from their sockets as I continued to struggle against him, kicking and clawing, desperate to escape the clutches of death. I began to feel dizzy and a bit weak. Suddenly I was filled with an overwhelming amount of cold. I squeezed my eyes shut one last time. I could feel my body begin to shut down.

My attacker sensed this and turned me around to face him, his hands slightly relaxing around my neck. I forced my eyes open to get one last look at my killer. What I saw shattered my heart, my soul… everything.

Ron Weasley stood above me, his hands crushing the life out of me as he pressed harder on my throat. My own husband was killing me.

My eyes filled to the brim with hot tears as I looked into his crystal blue eyes. His eyes were not the way they usually were. Ron's eyes were usually so full of happiness and life, a twinkle in them at all times. These eyes. They were filled with absolute hatred, disgust and murder. With the remaining energy I had, I lifted my arm off the ground and grazed his cheek with my cooling fingertips.

I took a heaving breath, willing myself to say the words that lingered on my tongue. "I- love y-you."

Ron's eyes suddenly shifted to my pocket. The pocket that contained the photograph. He looked back at me, hatred still lingering in his eyes. I felt the weight of his hands lift from my throat. I sat up, sputtering and coughing, desperately trying to regain the air my lungs desperately craved. I put a hand to my chest as if it would help me breathe. _Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, Exhale._ My head pounded with the overwhelming pounding of my heart.

I was alive.

I snapped my head up, ready to defend myself from Ron, but the minute I lifted my head, I noticed… he was gone. Vanished.

I slowly stood to my feet, my body screaming at me in protest. I was still a bit dizzy and disoriented, but I could see everything around me. I turned my head to the left, cautiously awaiting an attack. I turned to the right, nothing came at me.

"Ron?" No answer. "Ron!" No answer. I was alone.

No. I wasn't hallucinating! I was just strangled to the brink of death by my own husband. I don't think my mind would mess with me that way. Shaking, I bent over to pick up my dagger and my bag, both dropped onto the floor during my struggle.

I felt like I was going to throw up, a cold sweat forming on my hairline. Why would Ron do something like that? Wait. How did he even get in here? No. That wasn't Ron. Ron would never hurt me! Ron would never hurt anyone, unless it was to protect me. My mind begged me to see reason, but my heart was broken far beyond reason

I was still shaken from my attack as I began to cautiously trudge further into the forest. I decided not to let that attack bother me. I needed to keep myself alert and dwelling on it would probably put me in danger.

With my bag hitched onto my shoulder and my knife in front of me, I set my eyes ahead about 400 feet, seeing nothing but trees. It felt like only an hour had passed since I woke up, but that wasn't the case. I was placed in the arena early this morning, and the sun was already setting. The first day of the worst time of my life was coming to a close.

My neck was extremely sore. It felt like when you go running in the cold. That weird, aching feeling in the very end of your throat. It was that feeling, only about four times worse. It was a pain that could be ignored, a pain that could be tolerated easily. Suddenly that pain escalated to a stinging feeling, as if the inside of my throat was being electrocuted. I began to cough dryly, my heartbeat increasing in speed. I let out a small scream and slowly dropped to my knees, my hands on my neck. My throat felt as if it was on fire, burning mercilessly as I began to grow weaker.

I lied down on the cold grass, clawing onto the small blades in absolute agony. Tears poured from my eyes as I began to shake violently like one would during a seizure. The pain increased dramatically. I began to shake harder and sweat a freezing cold sweat. With sweating hands, I squeezed the blades of grass in my fists, desperately holding on for dear life.

I began to cough violently, blood erupting from my throat and splattering all over the lush, green grass. A morbid thought entered my mind as I thought about how similar the blood looked to James' finger painting. The finger painting that I had helped him with. He covered his hands in dark red paint and splattered it all over the piece of paper in front of him.

Despite the amount of pain I was in, I smiled slightly at the memory. He held his artwork up and looked at it admiringly. "Look, look what I did!" He smiled that devilish smile at me, as he held up his art.

That image burned into my memory as blood continued to erupt from my shaking body. My breathing came out in loud groans and desperate gasps, my body begging for anything to stop the pain. I hoped to God that James wasn't watching this. No, Harry's a good father. He wouldn't let him see this.

The pain began to subside to a small burn as my vision began to cloud with black dots. I continued to shake and groan, blood still erupt in a steady stream. _No._ I thought to myself. My vision was almost completely gone. _You will NOT die. Not now. _I refused to give up. Refused to give in to the taunting sereneness of the black dots that clouded my vision.

I let out a loud, rough scream as a wave of agonizing pain washed over my entire being. I pushed upward on my arms, arching my back in a state of agony that I had never known. I let out another scream as an overwhelming amount of blinding pain spread like fire through my entire system. My arms gave out from under me and I dropped harshly on my stomach.

That's when the entire world went black.

**I need suggestions. Should the next chapter be in Ron's POV, the family reacting to this happening? Or should it continue to be in Hermione's POV? Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

To the Death

**Thanks for the reviews! Just a warning, there's a lot of graphic language in this chapter. This one's going to be one of the longest chapters in the story. I wanted to include how the family was reacting to EVERYTHING that happened in the arena so far. Enjoy!**

RON'S POV:

The tears of pure terror and absolute heart ache never left our eyes. The two ton weight of anger and frustration remained positioned on all of our hearts. I was numb to everything around me. Numb to all of the meaningless words of comfort that were ironically not making me feel any better. "She'll be okay." I heard constantly in a far off world. "She's so strong, she can do this."

I know. Really, tell me something I don't know. Hermione is the strongest person I've ever met. She's such a fighter, and she'll do whatever it takes to live. Well, not everything. Hermione couldn't hurt anybody. She just couldn't. It's just not in her. Hermione is the most angelic and innocent person I think anybody's ever met. She's too much of a sweetheart.

I gripped the small television, squeezing it's sides, surely leaving a dent. My knuckles were white as I gripped it harder. My family was silent behind me, keeping their eyes glued to what they could see of the screen. You could hear a pen drop from how quiet it was in that room.

I let out a sob as Hermione shook with fear from her spot on the floor of the Arena. I was filled with fury as I noticed that all of the tributes had a backpack in front of them… but Hermione did not.

"What the hell? Why doesn't she have a bag?" I screamed at nobody in particular. Lucius Malfoy's voice boomed through the room from the tiny speakers of the television.

"In front of you is a backpack. This backpack contains the weapons that you will need to survive. All of you except one have one in front of you. The person without one was chosen by random draw."

Harry exploded behind me in fury, taking the words right out of my mouth. "RANDOM ORDER, MY ASS!" I looked back at him. His face was deep red, tears streaming down it in a steady stream. My mother let out a loud sob followed by a quiet hiccup.

I gripped the television as Lucius began to speak again. "Hermione Weasley. Your backpack is placed in a clearing about one mile ahead. You have to retrieve it immediately if you wish to survive." My blood boiled with anger as he spoke again. "All of you with backpacks, you may take out one of your weapons. Hermione Weasley, you are defenseless until you retrieve your bag. Therefore I would suggest that you…. _Run fast_."

"NO! THAT'S NOT FAIR! THIS IS BULLSHIT!" I screamed, all of the fury bubbling up inside me. "SHE'S GONNA DIE!"

My mum came forward and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She's g-going to be okay! They d-don't call h-her the brightest witch of h-her age for n-nothing! Stop thinking that w-way! It doesn't help anybody, especially Hermione!"

I pushed her hand off of my shoulder and she retreated back to my dad's arms. My heart thudded against my ribs as the countdown began. I could see Dean beginning to scoot toward Hermione, about to stab her.

"Fuck- no, Hermione- shit! Watch out!" As if she heard me, Hermione turned her head to look at Dean, a look of fury on her face that I had never seen before. "Yes! Good girl, good girl!" I was screaming things that were absolute nonsense to everyone in the room, but that didn't matter to me.

I grabbed fistfuls of ginger hair on my head as Lucius uttered the dreaded number. "1."

I screamed as Dean thrust his knife at Hermione's side. Everyone had run off into the forest except Dean and some bloke named Cody. I was infuriated beyond belief at the 6 people who ran off. They didn't even try to help Hermione.

"YOU BLOODY FUCKING COWARDS! SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP, DAMMIT!" Hermione was being circled by the two bastards, defenseless as the two of them continued slicing at her. I continued to scream at the 6 people who didn't help her, sounding like a mad man. "I HOPE YOU'RE ALL SATISFIED WITH YOURSELVES, YOU SELFISH BASTARDS! IF SHE DIES IN ANY OF YOUR PLACES, I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL BE _**WAITING**_ FOR YOU!"

My family wasn't horrified by my tirade like I had expected them to. In fact, they all joined me, screaming incoherent things at the television. Suddenly a loud booming sound came from the speakers. _The cannons!_ I thought to myself. _Somebody's dead, and it's not Hermione! _

With a deranged laugh, I screamed at the television. "HAHA! ONE DOWN! STARTING TO RETHINK RUNNING AWAY NOW, ARE YOU! TOO LATE, YOU STUPID BASTARDS!" I didn't have time to calm down as Hermione took off past Dean and Cody, using their distraction as an escape.

"Yes! Go, baby, Go!" I yelled at the television, a smile breaking out on my face, despite the fear that still coursed through my veins. _God, she's so smart._ I thought to myself as Hermione darted into the trees.

Ginny suddenly appeared next to me. "GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!" She screamed. "RUN, HERMIONE RUN!"

I was filled with anxiety as Dean and Cody broke out into a run after her yelling very vulgar things at her. "C'mon, sweetheart, run!" I screamed at the television. My mum sobbed louder as Dean began to catch up to her.

Dad, who had been silent the entire time, yelled from behind me. Cody circled around in front of her. My heart shattered as I saw Hermione's face. Her face depicted absolute fear. I hate seeing her scared, especially when I can't do anything to help her. She slowed her pace, much to my horror.

"NO! YOU'RE SO CLOSE, HERMIONE! DON'T SLOW DOWN!" I sunk to the floor, lying down on my elbows as Cody made a run at her, a long dagger in his hand, ready to sink it into her flawless skin.

"FUCK! HERMIONE NO!" Harry screamed from behind me. It was too late. Cody made a flying tackle right into Hermione's side, surely knocking the breath out of her. I clawed my nails into my face, the amount of stress I was under showing itself on my face. I lost hope. It was just so easy. I began to sob as reality sunk in. So many things could've happened in that small space of time. Cody could have stabbed her the minute he hit her. He could have slit her throat while they were in the air. She could've landed on his knife.

My heart stopped as I saw him on top of her, blood covering both of them. I stared at her chest through the tiny television, begging for her to breathe for me. I was filled with utter relief as Hermione blinked, tears escaping her perfect eyes.

"Oh, thank God!" My mother screamed from behind me. But who's blood soaked both Hermione and Cody?

Cody collapsed, falling off of Hermione, a knife lodged into his back. Being the beautiful person that she was, Hermione immediately went into a panic, trying desperately to save the man who had just tried to kill her. My heart filled with an overwhelming amount of love for her at that moment.

My mother spoke calmly behind me. "She's just….unbelievable." Those three words wrapped up what everybody was feeling at that moment. Not just my family, but possibly the entire wizarding world.

Dean stood behind her, blood covering him. I heard him mutter something unintelligible, but Hermione definitely reacted.

"No. I c-can't just l-leave him h-here!" I heard her beautiful, choked voice flutter through the television gracefully. A sound that I craved to hear so much. Somehow, the minute I heard her sweet voice, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

That feeling disappeared as quickly as it came as Hermione took off into the forest again. "Oh, God. Where are you going?" I asked Hermione through the television as if she could answer me.

We all held our breaths, waiting for something horrible to happen. Suddenly the television cut to something that I will never forget.

Hermione was being strangled. Not strangled by Dean, or Penelope or anybody else. She was being strangled by… _me._

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO!" I screamed, new hot tears rushing from my eyes. I hit the television as hard as I could, hoping to break through the glass and somehow help Hermione.

"RON STOP!" George ran forward, yanking me backward, hoping to keep me from electrocuting myself. Tears streamed down both of our faces. I kept my eyes glued to the screen, hoping to God that Hermione knew that wasn't me.

I crawled forward, my face inches from the television and screamed at it. "HERMIONE! IT'S NOT ME! IT'S NOT ME!" That horrible version of me on the television turned her around. I got a clear view of her face. She was turning blue, her eyes bulging from their sockets, blood vessels popping out in them. The worst part of it all? I could see tears streaming down her perfect face.

I took deep breaths, willing myself to calm down before speaking again. "Hermione, remember the photograph. Remember the photograph." It didn't work. Hermione was slipping away from me quickly. Not by the hand of Dean or somebody else, but by her own husband. Of course, it wasn't me, but Hermione didn't know that.

I was brought out of my thoughts as I heard Hermione's weak, choked voice float into my ears. "I l-love you." My heart felt like it had been hit by several bullets when she said those words.

I put my hand to the television, guilt spreading through me like wildfire. I could've prevented this. I could've fought harder for her. I should've forced them to take me instead. "I love you so much, Hermione. More than you'll ever know." I whispered quietly as if on cue.

I looked away from the television to wipe the tears from my eyes. When I looked, I expected to see Hermione laying motionless on the ground. My heart gave a leap as she sat up and coughed loudly, wheezing, trying to catch her breath.

"Ron, get out of the way! We can't see anything." I heard Ginny speak in a voice that thundered with pent up frustration. I turned to her, a murderous look on my features.

"Do you know how many televisions there are in this house? Do you know how many you own at your own house? I'm not blocking every damn television in this house, Ginny. Why don't you just leave? I think we'd all be happy if you did." I immediately felt guilty for what I had just said.

"Jesus, Ron! I just asked if you could move out of the way! I didn't need a lecture."

"Sorry, I'm just really stressed out and scared. That's not Harry fighting for his life out there right now. It sounds silly, but the closer I am to the television, the closer I am to Hermione."

All conversation stopped as I heard Hermione let out a loud scream. I turned, my heart thudding against my ribs. New tears sprung to my eyes as I saw her twitching on the ground and groaning. I couldn't watch this. I was brought back to the memory of her torture seven years ago.

Hermione's delicate fingers gripped the grass tightly, trying desperately to get rid of the pain. "Does anyone know what's happening?" I screamed at everybody in the room. They stared at me with red, tearful faces, not giving me any kind of answer.

"DID SHE GET STABBED, DID SHE GET SHOT? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?" I roared, all of my emotion pouring out of me with every word.

"WE DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING BECAUSE YOU WERE IN THE FUCKING WAY!" George, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until that point exploded with fury. I was ready to jump and tackle him when James, Harry's son, walked up to the television.

I took a breath, trying to calm myself down. "Hi, Jamesy. Do you need anything? A bottle? Some food?" He shook his head, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

He turned his small frame toward the screen, much to everybody's panic. I don't think he understood that he was seeing his aunt cough up blood and shake violently on the ground, because he turned to me and asked in a sweet voice, "Where's Mine?" Mine. When he was learning everybody's names, I called Hermione by her nickname, Mione. He started to try to say Mione instead of Hermione, but could never pronounce the O in her name. He's called her Mine his entire life.

Hermione was basically his second mother, constantly spending time with him, taking him to do fun things and all that stuff that aunts do. He idolized her, he loved her. He told me that she was his hero.

That's why I went into a panic as he recognized the person shaking on the ground. "Is that Mine?" He asked, fear dripping from his voice. He turned to all of us. "Why are you all crying? She's just sleeping!"

Sleeping. It's funny, the world of little children. So innocent. Death and pain don't exist when you're that young.

Harry decided, finally, to be the father and took his son's tiny hands. "That's right, little man. She's doing what you should be doing right now. Why don't you head back upstairs and mummy and I will come tuck you in." James nodded, a smile breaking out on his face and ran upstairs.

As if she sensed that he was gone, Hermione screamed and let herself fall to the floor. I was filled with an overwhelming amount of denial as my mind told me that she was dead. No. She wasn't dead. Her fingers are still moving, she's just unconscious.

Looking back, I should've been trying to figure out what had happened to her to cause her this much pain and suffering.

The entire room screamed as none other than Dean Thomas dragged my wife's unconscious form away.


	10. Chapter 10

To the Death

**Thanks for the reviews! Hermione's POV. Kind of a short chapter, but here it is! Enjoy!**

A dull ache in my neck awoke me from unconsciousness. My head lulled to the side as my eyes slowly opened. My eyes slowly adjusted to consciousness as I began to sit up. My heart pounded as I gazed upon my surroundings. This was not the forest that I passed out in. I was in a giant cave that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. My breath quickening, I tried to stand up, but something was stopping me. My left hand was handcuffed to the cave wall.

"Well, finally you're up." The voice of Dean Thomas echoed through the cave. I was filled with instant hopelessness. He was going to kill me. Tears of panic filled my disoriented eyes. I turned to look at him, a witty remark ready to escape my lips, but I noticed something. He was handcuffed too.

"Dean- w-what's going on? Why are we here? Who did this to us?" I asked, my voice choked. My throat was still extremely sore.

"I don't know. Last thing I remember is being strangled by my sister, then I woke up here with you. Did someone strangle you?"

"Yeah, my husband." He gave me a look of pity. I hated that.

"Can't say I'm surprised." He said with a small chuckle that filled me with anger. I scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anger dripped from my voice as I spoke.

"Well, Ron always seemed the type to beat his wife or even kill her." I was ready to kill him. The only thing keeping me from tackling him was the handcuffs.

"That wasn't Ron." I spoke in the voice of a scolded child. He furrowed his brow.

"Well, if it wasn't him, then who did you see?" I was filled with confusion. Who **did** I see in the forest? Maybe a boggart? Polyjuice potion? Some kind of hologram?

"Look, just drop it, okay? We need to find a way to get out of here." He gestured to his wrist.

"Already tried. Can't find a key or anything. How do you think we're supposed to get out of here? There's no way out."

I scoffed. "Well, aren't you just a bucket of positivity!" I focused all of my attention on my wrist. I pulled my arm down rapidly. The handcuffs were big enough to fit my wrist through, but small enough to trap it. Squeezing my eyes shut, I prepared for pain as I gripped my arm. I groaned as a squeezing pain overtook my wrist. I pulled my arm down, urging my hand to slip through its barrier. The fat part of the end of my hand turned dark blue as I continued to pull, ignoring the pain. I barely heard Dean speak behind me, I was so focused.

"It's not going to work. You're wasting your time!" I continued to pull. The handcuffs began to feel tighter around my hand as I continued to pull. My hand began to numb. I refused to stop now.

"Hermione, you can't do this!" Dean's voice reached my ears. I seized my pulling and turned to him, a murderous look in my eyes.

I pointed my free hand at him, making my point clear. "Don't tell me what I can't do." My voice dripped with anger as I spoke. He furrowed his brow, an equally murderous look overtaking his features.

"Don't tell me what I can't say." He spoke in the same deadly tone I had. I furrowed my brow at him, and turned back to continue what I was doing.

I didn't understand. Why wasn't this working? My wrists were extremely skinny. I figured I would've been able to get out of here by now. I suddenly heard the sound of metal hitting the cave floor. Happiness spread through me as I looked at my bruised, freed hand. "Dean, I'm free!"

"Great, come help me!" I scrambled over to him without a second thought, my hands grasping his.

"This may sting a little." I said as I began to pull down on his arm… it immediately slipped out. Why were his handcuffs so loose?

Suddenly, before I could react, Dean grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, pushing me roughly into the cave wall. My head made a loud cracking noise as it came in contact with the wall. I groaned, my vision becoming spotted with black dots. I felt my arm being lifted up as I stared at him with disoriented eyes. I heard the clicking noise of the handcuffs, trapping me against the wall once again.

I began to feel better, and realized what had just happened. I looked at my wrist with panicked eyes. I began pulling down on my arm, desperate to free myself again.

Dean slapped me hard across the face and tightened my handcuffs, eliciting a loud scream from me. The handcuffs were now digging into my flesh, surely cutting my skin.

Dean leaned into me, his face inches from mine. I could smell his horrible breath as he spoke to me. "Brightest witch of her age? Hardly. You were stupid enough to believe me. To trust me. That's why you're going to die. You're going to die. Now." With his last word, he slapped me violently across the face, dizzying me again.

He put his hands on the wall and suddenly a loud BOOM echoed through the cave. I looked around frantically, my chest rising and falling rapidly with every panicked breath. Giant rocks were falling from the ceiling of the cave, inches from me. The cave was caving in, and I was trapped inside.

Dean picked up his backpack and began to exit the cave. "DEAN! NO! I HELPED YOU!" I screamed after him, desperate for him to come back and free me. He laughed a maniacal laugh and began to turn out of the cave. "DEAN! PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME!"

The entrance of the cave piled to the top with rocks, the light of day slowly fading. I shook my arm and pulled it down, desperate to free myself. "Come on. Come on, come on, come on! PLEASE!"

A sudden exploding pain erupted in my stomach. I lost all ability to breathe immediately, my stomach feeling as if all of the bones in it had just incinerated.

With the little light I had, I could see a giant boulder positioned on my stomach, just below my chest, crushing the organs in my stomach. I began to feel dizzy from shock and lack of air. I coughed a wet cough as the remaining amount of light began to disappear.

Blood splattered across the front of the boulder with every cough that escaped my body.

The familiar feeling of unconsciousness began to overtake me as I heard Ron's voice echo in my mind.

"Hermione."


	11. Chapter 11

To the Death

**Sorry guys! Haven't updated in a while. Well, here it is! Enjoy! Hermione's POV**

Open your eyes. Just open them. I chanted these words in my head over and over again. I had passed out from the pain of being crushed about five minutes ago. I was shocked that I wasn't dead. Surely my intestines were crushed beyond repair and my lungs were definitely damaged. How was I still breathing? If I'm alive now, surely I can stay alive for just a little longer. Just long enough for everyone else to die, and then I can get out of here and get some kind of medical treatment.

I was immediately disgusted with how selfish that thought was. To just sit there and let everyone else die. No. I couldn't do that.

I could still smell the dirt of my rocky prison, most of it covering my unmoving body. I took a painful breath. I coughed a dry, raspy cough and opened my eyes. My heart shattered out of pure frustration and disappointment. The only thing I could see was the giant rock that was crushing the life out of me with every second. Tears welled up in my bloodshot eyes.

I suddenly remembered Ron's words of encouragement on the back of the photograph. _If you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation_.. Oh no. What came next? I can't just forget what he said. No, I REFUSED to forget.

The photograph was in my right pocket. The only problem was.. my right hand was chained to the wall. I closed my eyes and positioned my left hand on the boulder, taking deep breaths. Just the anticipation alone caused a burning pain to bubble up in my stomach. _Ignore the pain, ignore the pain, ignore the pain._

_1, 2, 3._ I pushed forward on the boulder with all of the strength in me. An exploding pain erupted within me, more intense than when the boulder actually fell on me. I let out a scream of agony as I felt another wave of exploding pain erupt through my body. _Come on. Ignore it!_ My brain screamed at me to keep pushing while my body screamed at me to stop.

Tears streamed down my face in a steady river of pain. My heart lept into my throat. The boulder was lifting off of my stomach.

With a final scream of anguish, the blood soaked boulder fell off of my body with a giant thud. I arched my back and squeezed my eyes shut, gasping for air. I groaned in pain as my stomach began to burn, a fire igniting within me. Tears escaped my eyes as I began to open them, ready to assess the damage of my stomach.

I shook with panic, a cold sweat developing on my hairline, shock overtaking my body. The front of my black tshirt was darkened with blood that had dripped off the sides of my stomach and pooled all around me. With extreme cautiousness, I lifted the front of the soaked shirt up. What I saw absolutely horrified me. My stomach was covered in blood, a giant, gaping wound still gushing out blood with every beat of my heart. The area around the wound was covered in black bruises. It didn't even look human at all, it looked as if someone had used monster makeup on me.

I began to feel sick. I pushed the end of my shirt back down as the pain started to turn into a sharp ache, not nearly as bad as it was before. I focused my eyes on my pocket, continuing to ignore the pulsating pain in my stomach. I lifted my bloody left arm and reached for my pocket, desperate to seek the only comfort that I had in this horrible place.

My fingers easily slipped into my pocket, searching for the photograph. Panic filled me as I noticed that I didn't immediately find it in my pocket. I took a shaking breath. The photograph wasn't there.

"No." I breathed. Taking deep breaths, my fingers searched the depths of my pocket. There was nothing there. I quickly searched my left pocket, just in case I had put it there.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized it wasn't there. My only source of comfort, my only reminder of what was waiting for me at home. My only connection with my family. It was gone.

The pain in my stomach began to subside as I rested my head in my left hand. My body shook with sobs as I screamed in absolute fury and frustration. How could Dean do this? I never did anything to him to deserve this! I never so much as stole a paperclip from him! I **never** did anything to deserve this.

I was crying so violently that I didn't notice the rocks at the entrance to the cave begin to shift. An angelic voice entered the caves and floated to my ears. "Hermione? Hermione is that you?"

My head snapped up. I looked around me, only to be filled with crushing disappointment. There was nobody in the cave.

My heart gave a leap as the voice spoke again. "Hermione? Hermione are you okay?" Penelope! Penelope was here! She was going to help me!

I took a deep breath and tried to speak, but nothing came. "Hermione are you in there?" I nodded furiously, though she could not see and tried to speak again… but nothing came. It was as if my voice had broken, leaving me with nothing but loud, shaky breaths.

"Hermione? Oh my God. You can't be dead, you just can't be dead!" I shook my head, tears streaming down my face.

With a heaving breath, I finally let out a small word. "Help."

"Hermione! Hermione listen, it's going to be okay! I'm going to get you out of there." I nodded. I heard something heavy hit the rocks piled at the entrance of the cave, letting in a small bit of light. My heart exploded with happiness as the rocks began to fall apart at the entrance, letting in even more light. I heard Penelope speak to somebody else, but I was too excited and happy to notice what she had said. Suddenly all of the rocks at the entrance collapsed, rolling down the cave violently, knocking into the walls, some of them barely missing my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to avoid getting any of the rock in my eyes.

When I opened them, Penelope knelt in front of me, staring at my stomach. "We're going to have to stitch it."

"What?" Justin appeared behind her, immediately running to free me from the handcuffs that still bound me to the wall. "You don't have any thread or anything. How are you supposed to stitch it?"

I took a breath and shifted, trying to speak, but Penelope cut me off. "Shh, Hermione. You just relax. We're going to take care of you."

I took another breath and struggled to get the words out. "Why?" They both looked at me, curiosity written on their features. Talking became easier as I spoke. "Why are you helping me?"

Justin spoke first. "Because you saved us." What? I didn't do anything to help them.

"What'd I do to save you?" My stomach was starting to throb again with every word. Penelope gave a small chuckle.

"Well, you saved the entire wizarding world. I think we owe you for-"

Justin suddenly cut her off. "Okay, she's bleeding profusely, we need to close that wound."

"And how do you propose we do that? I don't have anything to close it with!" Penelope was becoming frustrated. Her hand fell to the floor in defeat. Instead of picking it back up, she looked at the ground, curiosity overtaking her features. "Wait a minute." She brushed her hand over the dirt, her brow furrowed. I craned my neck to look at the dirt.

"This isn't dirt." Justin said, brushing his fingers over the dirt. He was right. The dirt was a charcoal gray with bits of black in it. "This is gunpowder."

I looked at him in confusion. "Why would there be gunpowder in here? We're only allowed to use knives and spears."

"Well, apparently someone's cheating." He said, still tracing his fingers over the powder. There was silence for a minute until he spoke again. "Wait a minute. I know what we could do. They taught us this in training." Training. Justin was all over the prophet about 3 years ago for enrolling himself in the muggle Army.

He looked up at me. "You have to trust me, though. This is the only way we can help you." I nodded quickly.

"I have matches in my backpack. I'm going to have to spread the gunpowder on the wound and we're going to have to burn it." My heart stopped and I immediately shook my head. What the hell was he talking about? You can't burn an open wound! "Just trust me. It's not pleasant at all. I know it sounds crazy, but it will work. It'll seal the wound shut with burned skin. It'll keep it from bleeding." I stared at him, wide eyed. I didn't know what to say.

I gulped, debating whether to tell them thanks for trying to help and to leave, or to trust Justin and burn the wound. I was about to tell them to get lost and let me die, but suddenly thought of Ron. He would want me to do **anything** to survive. I sighed deeply. If this was what it took to get back to him, then I would do it.

I closed my eyes and nodded. Justin pulled a match out of his bag as Penelope gathered a handful of gunpowder. My breathing increased as she lifted my shirt, revealing the giant cut across my stomach. I hissed as I felt cold stabs of pain as the powder came in contact with my open skin. I clenched my fists tightly, waiting for the pain.

I looked at Justin, fear in my eyes as he lit the match easily with one sharp stroke against the cave wall. The fire ignited, flickering constantly. My heart sped up as he held the burning match above my wound. "Penelope, hold her shoulders down." I felt slight pressure on my shoulders as she pushed me back, the top of my back flat against the cave wall.

"I'm going to count to three. It's going to be agonizing, but you have to keep as still as possible." I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut again. "1, 2.." I could practically feel the heat radiating from the match as it neared my stomach. "3!"

I arched my back and screamed in agony as a white hot pain erupted through my stomach. I clutched Penelope's shoulder tightly with my free hand as wave after wave of endless torture flooded through my entire body.

I couldn't take anymore. It felt as though the fire had been burning me for an hour, though it had only been burning for a few seconds. "STOP! STOP STOP STOP! PLEASE!" I begged, screaming in pure anguish.

"Hermione, you're almost done! Just a little longer!" Penelope yelled encouraging words into my ear as blackness began to swim in my vision.

"PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!" Justin quickly blew out the flames. The pain didn't subside immediately. My stomach felt as if the inside were on fire. I struggled to stop screaming, my screams becoming harsh, ragged breaths.

My heart stopped as another voice entered the cave.

"Well that was fun to watch."

Dean Thomas stood at the entrance of the cave, a gun in his hand, and a twisted smile on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

To the Death

**Thanks for all the reviews! This chapter's probably going to be kind of short, but oh well. :) Hermione's POV. Sorry, I'll do Ron's POV in some of the next chapters. I've got a ton of ideas for Hermione's POV. Enjoy!**

Dean's twisted smile grew bigger as Justin stood up, a frightened look on his face. Dean gave a deranged laugh. "You're all just _so_ afraid of me! You're all so weak! Too weak to fight me!" He let out another laugh and pointed the gun at Justin.

"Dean, NO!" A loud BANG exploded through the cave as Justin fell, his head covered in a never ending river of blood. Penelope let out a loud wail of anguish and scrambled over to his bloody body. I sat still, my eyes wide, my mouth open, my stomach turning, and tears falling from my eyes. I couldn't figure out how to process Justin's death.

Dean stood still, watching Penelope sob over Justin's dead body. I looked at him, a look of fury and hatred overtaking my features. The only sounds that could be heard in the cave were Penelope's sobs of anguish.

She took a long, shaking breath. "HOW COULD YOU?" Tears began to fall from my eyes faster. Dean stood still, smiling and swaying, as if listening to music. He smiled at me. With that one smile, I could see the old Dean, even for only a second. With that smile, I was taken back to our days at Hogwarts, I was taken back to the war, I was taken back to a different time, a different dimension.

Dean let out another laugh and pointed the gun at me. I closed my eyes and let the last tears escape from my eyes. Penelope gave another scream, as he cocked the gun. I could practically hear his finger on the trigger as my heart began to quicken.

A loud BANG erupted through the cave. I jumped, holding my breath, waiting for the pain. But no pain came.

I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see white all around me, expecting to feel weightless, painless, _fearless_. What I saw shocked me.

Dean stood in front of me, his gun pointed at the hand that was chained to the wall. I slowly turned my head, my heart pounding, expecting to see my hand covered in blood.

The chains that bound me to the wall lay in a crumpled metal heap on the floor next to me. My body began to shake as I slowly looked up at him. "Wha-?"

Dean pointed at the cave entrance and took a heaving breath. "20 seconds." No. He's done this before, why should I trust him?

"No! I don't trust you! You're just going to kill both of us!" He laughed again, making me want to punch him. He shook his head, the same deranged smile stretched upon his face.

"15 seconds. I'm giving you a chance." I sat still, refusing to move. "12 seconds. I'm going to kill you once I hit zero." I glared at him, refusing to leave. I could practically hear Ron screaming at me to move. "9 seconds." Penelope stared at me and got up to leave. It was then, that I decided to move. With blood covered hands, she helped me to my shaking feet.

Dean gave us one last deranged smile. "7 seconds."

Penelope pulled my hand roughly, encouraging me to move. My legs were too weak to sprint away, but Penelope continued to drag me out into the bright sunlight that I had missed dearly. Penelope was blinded by hatred and grief as she ran faster, literally dragging me through the forest.

"Penelope, please! Slow down!" She ignored me and continued to run full speed at the sunset ahead of us. I began to regain a bit of strength and started to keep in time with her frantic steps.

Suddenly a piece of tree bark exploded behind us, narrowly missing the back of my head. Penelope stopped, her brow furrowed and turned to face me. She spoke in a fearful voice. "Is he shooting at us?"

Another explosion of splintered wood erupted behind me. I began to run away, but Penelope stopped me. Ignoring the firing of bullets behind us, she shook my hand. "This is the end of the line."

I opened my mouth in awe. "What? No, I'm not going to leave you! I can't do this alone!" I was shocked. The only person on my side was leaving me.

"Hermione, I have to! I can distract him and you can escape!" Tears slipped down my face in a steady stream. She put her hands on my shoulders. "You are going to win this."

I shook my head, panic searing through me as more bullets exploded behind us. "No! Not without help!"

She let out an exasperated breath and pulled me into a hug. "Good luck, Hermione." With those final words, she ran away, never turning back. My heart pounded as I looked around frantically, planning an escape route.

I heard a scream in the distance followed by 3 gunshots. I began to panic. I took off further into the forest, my heart pounding, my breath coming out in frantic gasps. I could feel my legs begin to regain a bit more strength as I set my eyes on my next destination. There was a lake that seemed to stretch on for miles. If I could just get to the other side of that lake, I would be fine.

My heart pounded in my ears as I sped up my pace. My stomach throbbed painfully, as if begging for me to stop. But I couldn't stop. I refused to stop. Dean was on a shooting rampage right behind me, and I wasn't ready to die. Penelope was right. I had to win this.

As quickly as they came, the bullets stopped. But I wouldn't stop running. This was probably some kind of trap.

The forest became eerily silent as the sun made its final descent into night. There was just enough light for me to at least make it to the lake. I picked up the pace, feeling as if my feet were gliding over the ground. My stomach continued to throb with shooting, stabbing pains, urging me to rest, but I couldn't stop.

I suddenly heard the snap of a tree branch ahead of me. My heart sped up with panic as I increased my pace. I'd never run so much in my life. Then again, I've never had to run so much in my life.

I heard another loud crack right in front of me, a small warning of what I was about to run into. Suddenly, something heavy flew down from the trees, a rope of weeds wrapped around it. I screamed and stopped running, trying to see what it was.

I covered my mouth with both of my hands, fell to my knees and screamed. Tears fell from my eyes as my heart exploded with grief and heartbreak.

Penelope Clearwater hung by her neck, two red X's carved into her eyelids.


	13. Chapter 13

To the Death

**Thanks for the reviews! I promise you're going to find out why Dean's acting like this, but not just yet. Sorry! Enjoy! Hermione's POV**

I couldn't look at her. I couldn't bring myself to look at the woman who saved me, the woman who lost her life because of me. A sudden rush of adrenaline ran through me. I don't know if it was from the shock or from the sense of absolute grief and sorrow I felt at that moment.

Penelope's backpack had fallen to the ground when her body hung from the tree. I quickly crawled forward, my shaking hands grasping the small zipper. The backpack was filled with knives. I grabbed one of them, immediately feeling disgusted with myself for stealing from the dead. Penelope would understand, though.

Penelope. Ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I stood, making my way to the tree. I grasped the branch above me and pulled myself up a bit, just enough to reach the rope of weeds. Holding myself up with one shaking arm, I cut the rope with a harsh sawing motion, desperate to cut her down. Penelope deserved to win. She had a husband and children waiting for her to come home. Tears stung my eyes as I thought of the children that would never see their mother again. It was too late. Penelope was gone, I was still alive. I still had a chance.

Penelope's body fell gently to the ground. I jumped down from the tree and knelt in front of her. For a moment, I just stared at her, hoping to God that she was okay. My mind was surely playing tricks on me, because I could've sworn I saw her chest rise.

I drew a shocked breath and spoke to her in a shaking voice. "P-Penelope? Can you hear me?" No response. No breath, nothing.

I shook my head roughly, tears falling out of my eyes. I let out a scream and pounded on her chest with my fist, desperately trying to wake her up. "Come on, Penelope please! You have children waiting for you at home!" I emphasized every word with a hard pound on her chest. I paused for a moment and stared at her unmoving body. I screamed in frustration and hit her one more time, desperate to get her heart to beat again.

I collapsed on her body in a heap of heart wrenching sobs. All of the horrible things I'd gone through, all of the things I'd been forced to deal with came crashing down on me in that small frame of time. I promised myself that I wouldn't kill or hurt anybody. As time wore on, that promise became less and less of a priority.

I heard the sound of a cannon explode through the arena, signaling Penelope's death. I slowly crawled off of her body and stood on shaking legs, looking at her one last time.

"Thank you." I whispered under my breath. I picked up her backpack and hitched it over my shoulder. I was ready now. I was ready to avenge everybody. I was ready to kill Dean. I turned back to my destination. The giant lake.

With one knife held cautiously in front of me, I began to walk toward the lake, my speed increasing with every step. I furrowed my brow as I got closer to the shore. There was a human-like figure standing at the other side of the lake.

My heart slowly filled with fear as I stared at the figure across the lake. What was that? It seemed human, but it seemed very ghostly as it stared at me. The snapping sound of a branch sounded behind me and I quickly whipped my head around to see what it was. There was nothing there. I debated whether to investigate the snapping sound or try to find out what was on the other side of the lake. Either way, I'd probably end up dead, so it didn't really matter to me.

Another branch snapped behind me and I quickly made my decision. I put the backpack down and grabbed one knife, in case I needed to defend myself from the thing across the lake. I took my shoes off quickly and snapped my head up to look across the lake. The figure stood in the same position as it did earlier, yet it felt…. closer.

I dipped my toes in the cold lake, uncertainty creeping up in me. I looked at the figure again. The figure was ankle deep in the water….just like I was. I began to shake, not from the cold of the water, but from fear.

I kept my eyes on the figure, watching it closely as I ventured deeper into the freezing water, chills creeping up my spine with every step. I was now chest deep in the water, fear boring into my heart with every beat. The figure was mirroring me, now chest deep into the water. For some reason, I was mesmerized by the fear it produced in me. My mind was telling me to get out of the water and think of a different plan, but something else was urging me to get to the other side of the lake.

I was now treading water with great difficulty. The figure raised its arm and pointed a long, bony finger to the water. I furrowed my brow and looked down under the gentle waves. My heartbeat increased as I saw a small square shape. It was trapped under a rock at the bottom of the lake, fluttering gracefully with the impact of the gentle waves above.

There was something on the small square. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what was on the mysterious square. My heart gave a leap. _No. It couldn't be! _My mind frantically begged me to see reason, but I wouldn't have any of it.

The photograph of my family rested at the bottom of the lake.

My heart sped up with excitement. I looked up from the water to look at the figure in the water. It was gone.

I looked around quickly, thinking that this might be a trap. For some reason, I put it in the back of my mind, making the photograph my top priority.

I looked around one last time before taking a deep breath and plunging into the water. My eyes stung when I opened them, feeling as if they were freezing over inside their sockets. Bubbles surrounded me in a graceful dance as I ventured deeper into the freezing water. The photograph got closer and closer and I could make out the individual heads of ginger hair. My chest began to constrict and I knew I would need to go back up to the surface for air, so I swam a bit faster to the bottom. My heart sped up as my fingers grazed the small black rock that trapped my only source of comfort. With little effort, I pushed the rock off of the photograph, freeing it at last.

My shaking fingers grasped the photograph gently. In that moment, my heart swelled with warmth that I can't even describe, a sense of peace that can't be put into words. That feeling was soon replaced with a burning feeling in my lungs. I began to kick to the surface quickly, my lungs burning with the lack of air they desperately craved. I was almost to the surface, my fingers emerging from the water.

Suddenly, something pulled me violently by the ankle, forcing me deeper underwater. I kicked harshly, trying desperately to escape the clutches of my attacker. I was failing, miserably. The surface was becoming a mere memory as I was dragged to the depths of the cold lake. The familiar feeling of unconsciousness began to overtake me. I gave one last look at the photograph before letting it slip from my weak fingers. I watched with a broken heart as it fluttered and danced gracefully in the crushing blackness of the serene lake.

I suddenly felt myself being pushed up to the surface, the feeling of being dragged to my death leaving me. _So this is what dying feels like._ I thought to myself. I felt the cool air on my face as my head emerged from the surface. I took a rasping breath of the freezing air. Wait. I wasn't dead? How could I not be dead? Who was that?

My thoughts filled with panic and surprise as I splashed around, looking around, desperate for answers. I struggled to keep myself afloat as I looked back under the surface to see if my attacker had shown himself.

My heart exploded with confusion and fear as a flash of ginger hair quickly swam under me.


	14. Chapter 14

To the Death

**Hey everyone! Haven't updated in a while, sorry. Here it is, finally! ALSO! I'm going to post the first chapter of the sequel to White TODAY! So be on the lookout for it! It should be up later!**

I was shaking. I was treading water furiously, my heart was thudding against my ribs, and I was shaking. My breath came out in desperate gasps, my lungs still begging for the air they so desperately craved. I lowered my head back underwater, trying to investigate what had just happened. I looked around wildly, hoping to see that flash of ginger hair again, but much to my dismay, I saw nothing but algae and sand particles, kicked up from my struggle.

Impossible. I could've sworn Ron was underwater. I could've sworn he was trying to drown me. I wanted to investigate further, but I knew I couldn't stay in one place for too long. My body, still a bit shaken from my attack, protested as I began to swim across the lake to the other side of the shore, my original destination. My heart thudded with every bit of distance I covered.

I stopped. I heard a low rumbling sound below me. The water began to ripple and turn as the entire world felt like it was shaking violently. I heard a short beeping noise begin to sound. There were a few seconds in between each shrill beep, as if there were a countdown going on. That small frame of time between each beep became shorter and shorter.

I began to panic and swam as quickly as I could to the shore, my heart thudding and my muscles screaming at me to stop. I could stand in the water now, the sand rushing up to my feet quickly as I closed the gap between me and the shore. The beeps became closer and closer together, my heartbeat quickly matching them. Finally, my bare feet felt the cold ground once again. I had no time to look back as the beeping continued to grow closer and closer together.

I picked up my pace, darting past tree after tree, venturing deeper and deeper into the forest. I heard the quick shuffle of hurried footsteps approach me. _Oh great. _I thought as the footsteps began to sound closer and closer. _This is just what I need. _

The beeps began to grow so close together that I couldn't hear any pause between them. I stopped as the owner of the hurried footsteps ran into my vision. It was Charlie, the intern I had worked with in October. He was no older than 20, with yellow-blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. Those eyes usually held a sense of mischief within them, but right now, they were filled to the brim with tears of panic and hopelessness.

_BEEEEEEEEEEEP!_ One long, shrill beep filled the arena. Charlie looked at me, his eyes begging me to help him somehow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Hermione, what's going o-" Suddenly I was thrown from my position as an explosion sent me flying violently through the forest with break-neck speed. I hit the ground roughly, my head hitting the floor violently. I laid there in that position for the longest time, my head pounding, feeling as though it were about to split open. I let out a moan and put my hands on my head, squeezing my eyes shut. In my fog, I could distantly hear the sound of three cannons exploding in the distance. Three. Three more people were dead. I found myself hoping to God that Dean was one of them.

Wait a minute. There were nine of us originally put in the arena. First, somebody immediately died, then Cody, then Justin, then Penelope, then Charlie and two others. That means… That means that there were only two left.

This was almost over.

I dizzily lifted my head to assess the damage that the explosion made. My entire side of the forest was engulfed in flames, spitting sparks and furiously roaring, destroying everything in its path. It was as if the never ending flames of Hell had emerged from the ground and engulfed the world in a burning Hell much like itself.

My head pounded with protest as I stood on shaking legs. My vision was blurred and everything felt like the world was spinning. I was pretty sure I had a concussion, but I couldn't lay there and burn to death. The flames quickly approached me and I could practically feel their heat begin to burn my skin.

I turned quickly, about to run away, but my head screamed at me in protest. The heat behind me increased as black spots began to invade my vision. No! I couldn't pass out. I couldn't burn to death! I was so close to winning. So close to going home. I refused to succumb to the taunting blackness that faded my vision.

I let out a scream of pain as my brain felt as if it were exploding inside my skull. I dug my teeth into my cheek and broke out into a run. The heat behind me began to subside as I increased the distance between the flames and me. My stomach began to bubble and I felt as if I were going to vomit. I had this feeling before, but not like this. It was definitely my body's reaction to the concussion, so this time I was actually going to vomit.

I looked behind me and the flames were a good 100 yards away. I began to shake, my legs no longer able to support my weight, and collapsed, leaning against a tree. I put a hand to my stomach as I began to violently vomit. My heart pounded, my brain screamed in pain, I broke out in a cold sweat, and my breath came out in uneven, wild gasps. I don't think I'd ever felt this sick in my life. I'd never vomited this much in my life. My stomach felt empty as ever, yet I continued to throw up as if I had just eaten an entire feast.

The vomiting began to turn into long dry heaves as my vision began to darken once more. I lay down on my back and stared up at the sky. The top of the arena was clear, giving me a fantastic view of the stars above. The dry heaving began to finally subside, turning into violent coughs. My chest constricted, feeling as though my lungs had tied themselves together.

It was then that I realized I hadn't slept for the past four days. Four days. That's how long I'd been out here? It only felt like one long, agonizing day had passed. I was probably in that cave a lot longer than I thought.

I began to close my eyes and tried to even out my ragged breathing. It was so nice to finally relax for the first time in days. I rested my hand on my stomach and immediately pulled it away with a loud hiss. I was suddenly brought back to the memory of burning the wound on my stomach. I cringed at the thought. It felt as if I were being tortured again. The burning, rippling pain exploding through me, feeling as though everything inside of me were tearing themselves to pieces.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the snapping sound of a twig in front of me. My heart began to pound. My weapons were on the other side of the lake. I had nothing to defend myself with, I was concussed and could barely move.

I slowly lifted my head, my mind telling me to stay down, but I couldn't. I had to see who it was that was going to take my life. Who it was that was going to make sure I never came home. Who it was that was going to make sure I never saw my family again.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me."


	15. Chapter 15

To the Death

**Hey everyone! Thanks sooo much for the awesome reviews! **

Dean Thomas hovered above me, blood covering his entire face, making him almost unrecognizable. His twisted smile grew larger with every second of silence.

"I cannot _wait_ to kill you, Hermione." He gave a soft chuckle and came closer to me. I flinched as he knelt down beside my shaking form, pulling a knife from his backpack. "I have been planning this moment in my head for the _longest time_. I've been planning this moment before we even got put in the Arena."

I furrowed my brow at him. "What? You've wanted to kill me since before the games?" He laughed again and fury coursed through my veins with every laughing breath he took. "Why? What did I ever do to you?" I was becoming more and more frustrated with every second he didn't answer me.

He stopped laughing and knelt down in front of me. He lightly dragged the knife across the skin of my cheek as he spoke. "You really don't know, do you?" I shook my head softly, being careful not to cut myself on the knife. He sighed and put his hand on my forehead, forcing my head to lay flat on the ground. He began to press the knife harder into my cheek, hard enough to draw blood. I let out a groan of pain as the knife dug into my skin.

"Dean, stop! What did I do?" He stopped pressing the knife into my cheek and began to trace light circles on my neck with the tip of it. I began to feel more and more anxious, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"You want to know why I want to kill you, Hermione? Why I pitched the idea of the Hunger Games to Kingsley? Why I had everything rigged so that it would just be you and me in the end? So that I could torture you until you begged me to kill you in front of your entire family?" I was shocked. I didn't know how to process this.

"Dean.. why? We were friends! What did I do to you?" He continued to trace teasing circles on my neck with the knife, barely breaking the skin. He ignored my questions and continued.

"Why would I want to torture and murder the brightest witch of her age? Why would I want to murder the woman who helped save the wizarding world?" My heart pounded against my ribs as if it knew that it were about to seize its beating. As if it knew that there would soon be a knife through it. "Hermione, what if I told you that it had nothing to do with you at all?"

"What?" I was so confused. Why would Dean want to kill me so badly if it had nothing to do with me? "Why do you want to kill me, Dean? Please. I deserve to know why I'm about to die. Please."

He paused and smiled that twisted smile again. "It's because of your brother."

I shook my head and rapidly blinked my eyes. Tears began to fall from my eyes as I was suddenly brought back to the horrible memories of my brother, Thomas. My brother was an awful person. He was a liar, he was a drug addict, he was an alcoholic, and he physically and verbally abused everyone he came in contact with, including me. He lived with Ron and I for a while because he had nowhere to go. The first few months were okay. We lived on different sides of the house and didn't ever bother each other. We tried to rebuild what was left of our disastrous relationship and we were doing a really good job of it. But everything was forgotten when he hit me. He didn't just hit me, he pushed me down the stairs and beat my head against the hard wood floor, _laughing_. He beat my head against the floor until blood was gushing from my head. Once I was unconscious, Thomas destroyed the living room and ran away. I never saw him again. If Ron hadn't come home at that moment, I would've gone into shock and I would've never woken up.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head again, desperate to shake the memories out of my head.

"What'd my brother do to you?" I choked out through my tears. Dean's twisted smile began to fall. The deranged expression that inhabited his face was soon replaced with a look of grief. I felt the knife leave my throat and a spark of relief ignited within me. He took a shaking breath, the first sign of true remorse I'd seen from him.

"He murdered my wife." He spoke in such a monotonous voice that I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. "He gutted her and hung her from the tree outside. I found her." I began to shake. I began to feel sick to my stomach again.

I swallowed roughly and began to speak. "Dean I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know." He glared at me with a murderous look. He shook his head and continued to glare down at me.

"Your brother isn't the only reason I've been so desperate to kill you." I furrowed my brow in confusion. My heart began to pound as he opened his mouth to speak. "I was so shocked and so upset. I called the aurors to come and investigate. To give me the name of the man who killed my wife. When I found out that your idiot husband was coming to investigate, I begged for somebody else to come help me. I begged for Harry, or anyone else in that fucking department. But I was stuck with Ron." I began to feel fury bubble up inside me as he continued. "That fag knew it was your brother. He didn't want me to go revenge crazy and try to hurt you."

Dean looked up into the sky and screamed to the heavens. "WELL, RON? HOW'S YOUR LITTLE PLAN WORKING NOW?" Dean dropped the knife on my stomach and waved his arms around like a mad man. "I'VE GOT YOUR WIFE TRAPPED AND SHE'S GOING TO SUFFER THE SAME WAY MY WIFE DID!" I grasped the handle of the knife and mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do. "YOU'RE GOING TO FEEL EXACTLY LIKE I DID WHEN MY WIFE DIED! I HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIED, BECAUSE THIS IS YOUR F-"

He never got to finish his sentence. I jumped forward and enveloped him in a tackle. We flew through the air for what felt like forever and I was suddenly brought back to the memory of Cody tackling me to the ground. I couldn't let what happened to Cody happen to me. I had to end this. I had to kill Dean.

We hit the ground roughly and I fell on top of Dean, the knife raised above my head. I plunged the knife down toward his heart, but I felt his rough hands grip my arm, stopping the motion that would end his life. He roughly backhanded me twice across the face, weakening me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and quite literally threw me to the ground. I let out a loud moan as my head came in contact with the hard ground again.

Dean sat on top of my stomach, causing me to scream in agony. The familiar burning pain began to ripple and tear across the inside of my stomach once again. I continued to scream in pure agony until I felt his weight lift off of me. I wanted to tackle him again so badly but I couldn't move, my body still burning internally, screaming in pain.

My eyes welled up with hopeless tears when I looked up again. Dean stood above me, a giant stone in his hand. In what felt like another world, I felt the handle of the dagger still in my hand. I tightened my grip on the handle, just to make sure it was real.

Dean leaned closer to me, his putrid breath coming out in wild gasps. My heart sped up as he began to speak in the most haunting voice I've ever heard.

"Say goodbye." With that, he raised the giant stone above his head.

In those final moments, I knew I had to do it. It was literally do or die. I mustered up every ounce of strength left in me and jumped up, pushing him roughly to the ground. He dropped the giant rock and looked up at me in shock.

I raised the knife above my head and plunged it roughly into his chest. He screamed in agony as I pulled the knife out of his chest. All of the colour immediately drained from my face as blood began to gush from the wound. Tears of pain stung his eyes and I felt absolutely awful for causing him this much pain, but I had to do it. I had to kill him.

I stabbed him again in a different place in his chest and he tensed up, pain overtaking his body. Blood began to erupt from his mouth and he began to turn white, his screams of pain turning into loud gargles as blood filled his throat.

I've never felt so guilty in my entire life. Dean began to become quieter and quieter as the life quickly drained from him. I stabbed him two more times, just to make sure he would die.

Dean's eyes began to glaze over, eternal sadness forever looming in them. I dropped the knife to my side with shaking, blood covered hands and watched his chest rise and fall with his final breaths.

A final trickle of blood fell from his mouth as he took one more breath. A cannon blasted in the distance. It was over.

Dean Thomas was dead. I won.


	16. Chapter 16

To the Death

**Hi everyone! So so so sorry I haven't updated in a long time! I've been pretty busy for the past few weeks. Hope I can make it up to you with this chapter :). Hermione's POV.**

_There is blood everywhere._ I thought, the feeling of sickness welling up inside me. I let myself off of Dean's body and sat down in complete numbness. My heart was pounding from adrenaline, my hands were shaking and I felt as though I were about to pass out. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the thought that I had just killed somebody. I had taken the life of somebody else. I had watched the light leave Dean's tearful eyes.

Yes Dean was a cold blooded killer, but he was still a living, breathing human being. I shook my head, trying to shake those thoughts from my head. I couldn't feel sorry for Dean. After all he had done to me? After all the things I went through because of him? How could I feel sorry for him even when he most deserved it?

I don't know.

I couldn't look at his still form anymore. I turned away from him, waiting for some kind of announcement to come on, telling me that I had won, that I could go home. The longer I stayed with Dean, the worse I felt. It was as if every beat of my heart felt more and more undeserving than the one before it.

I gulped. What would Ron think of this? I was acting in self-defense. There's no way that he could be angry with me for this. Still, a tiny part of me was very afraid to face my family.

I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. With every passing second came a new thought filled with guilt and nervousness. It was like I was literally drowning in my own guilt. I summoned the courage to look at Dean's body.

His eyes were wide open, dried blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and his chest glistened with fresh blood seeping from the giant wounds I had made. Tears welled up in my eyes as a wave of dizziness flooded through me. Keeping my head down, I crept towards his body, trying to avoid the large puddle of blood that formed under him. My blood covered hand reached up to his face. I put my fingers on his freezing cold eyelids and closed them.

I had to back away immediately, my stomach churning, threatening to empty itself. I took deep breaths and tried to control the overwhelming urge to vomit.

I suddenly heard the soft whirring of a helicopter above me. My heart lept to my throat and I shot my head up, hoping to God that I wasn't imagining it.

A giant smile broke out on my face as a helicopter came into my vision, slowly lowering itself down. The trees surrounding the area were being tossed around as the force of the wind made rough contact with them. I stood up on shaking legs, tears streaming down my face as the helicopter landed a few yards away from me.

A woman ran out of the helicopter and took my hand gently. "Come on sweetheart, let's take you home." She spoke in a sweet voice and guided me patiently to the helicopter.

"Thank you." I said, utter happiness dripping from my voice. As we approached the helicopter, a feeling of relief rushed through me, sending chills up and down my spine in a never-ending spiral.

I gave one last glance at Dean's lifeless body. A man no older than twenty was zipping him up in a body bag. As the zipper approached Dean's head, reality began to settle within me that I had won. That I was actually going home.

The woman helping me patted me gently on the shoulder. "It's okay. You did what you had to do." I gave her a weak smile and nodded softly.

The woman guided me into the medical helicopter and shut the door. An immense amount of relief filled my very soul as we lifted off of the ground. With every foot off of the ground came a new wave of relief and excitement.

The woman sat across from me and shined a flashlight in my eyes. I immediately squeezed them shut and flinched.

"I need you to try to follow the light with your eyes, okay?" She asked sweetly. She shined the light in my eyes once more and a crushing wave of pain flooded my skull. My brain felt as if it were on fire, pounding and throbbing, begging for the light to go away. She did this for what seemed like a lifetime before lifting my head with her hands to get a closer look at my eyes.

She lowered her hands to the hem of my shirt and lifted it up gently. She gasped at the giant, infected burn mark across my stomach. She gently traced it with her fingers, sending shockwaves of pain up and down my stomach. I flinched violently, tears springing to my eyes. She looked at me with concerned eyes.

"Hermione, I'll need to put you to sleep for this. This wound is re-opening. It needs proper stitching, and I'd rather you not be in pain, okay?" I nodded, tears falling from my eyes. "You won't feel a thing, and we'll be at the train station when you wake up."

The woman took two small needles in her hand. She placed one at my arm and shoved it under my skin. I immediately felt the effects of the medicine, my vision becoming spotted with black dots. I didn't feel the second needle as the black dots began to merge into complete darkness.

**Alrighty! Getting to the end! I'll post a new chapter to I Miss My Friend before the end of the week :). Thank you all so much for all of the support and all of the reviews, I really appreciate it!**


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